


Reunion

by Aluxra



Series: Goodbye, Hello Again [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 05:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11411586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Jesse McCree answers Winston's recall after the six year absence, and finds more than what he expected.





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> I have a headcanon that Genji never removed his whole visor or fully showed his face while he was in Blackwatch, ever, so no one knew what he looked like except Angela, Gabriel and maybe Jack.
> 
> [Original Posted:](http://aluxra.tumblr.com/post/151237995572/5-a-reunion-kiss-mcgenji-3-3) Oct 2nd, 2016

McCree huffed a breath, rubbing his lower back as he shuffled his duffel bag under his serape for what felt like the thousand and first time. His mood had soured with a vengeance by lack of sleep after he had trudged, dragged and hauled his beaten, bruised and weary backside halfway round the world to the WatchPoint: Gibraltar, bunking in the cargo hold of ships and catching the breeze on the Inter-rail hypertrain through Europe for four days straight. If he took the scenic route, well, no one needed to know, and if he had spent last night in a hostel in town, enjoying the basic luxury of a shower and a bed, well, no one needed to know that either. Especially since he hadn’t slept a wink, spending every waking minute with his own thoughts across the journey, debating whether he would actually show up at the Watchpoint, where the rumours pointed to former Overwatch agents regrouping. The closer he’d gotten, the more obvious his answer had been. Still, he couldn’t shake the nausea bubbling in his gut with the thought of returning to Overwatch.

Once bitten, twice shy, as the saying went.

He’d thrown his lot in with them before, just like everyone else who wore the black and gold symbol, standing shoulder to shoulder with their brothers in arms, ready to take on the world or save it or change it for the better. Back when real heroes existed and the world was coloured with a shiny rose-tinted hue, back before the glass shattered and everyone was left clutching the fractured shards of what remained: lies and deceit and fraud and double dealings. No better than the life he had chosen to leave behind.

So he had left, and had never looked back.

Now, he looked up to his destination, slowing his steps. WatchPoint: Gibraltar dominated the horizon, a slumbering titan hunkered down against the ragged face of the cliffs. The towering, dark grey walls absorbed the last of the light from the sinking sun, turning black while the sky was alight with flame, the clouds blazing red and orange and golden yellow, matched by the symbol emblazoned on the side of the wall, shining like a star against the black stone.

He paused, looking away, tapping the toe of his boot against the ground, as if to shift a stone and tried to ignore the lump that had caught in his throat, the sudden swell in his chest at the sight of the building. This wasn’t even the real deal, the official HQ was thousands of miles away, reduced to rubble after the explosion totalled it to nothing. Still, he took a moment to breathe, clearing his throat and shaking off the surge of emotion that had rocked him before carrying on down the road. He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked.

* * *

He approached the front entrance after another hour of walking, an impromptu run and jump over the collapsed west wall and a light trek on the long route around the edges of the grounds in case any traps had been laid for unexpected visitors: maybe he should have called ahead. He paused, shucking his duffel bag further up on his shoulder and looked back down the dry, dusty hill to the crowds of rooftops snuggled close together along the stretch of winding road, basking in the warm orange glow of the sunset. A fleeting thought of turning around and walking away rolled through his mind like tumbleweed, and he pursed his lips, pulling a cigarillo from his pocket and lighting it with a sharp  _zzzp_ of his lighter: gold plated, pocketed from a bounty hunter early in his journey who thought they had the jump on him. They only had four guys.

He blew out a billow of smoke, the wispy tendrils snaking around his face and up over his eyes, clouding his vision till it felt like looking through fogged glass. It dissipated in the light breeze that stole across the grounds, leaving him with the clear vision of the battered dark walls and the stained windows, the Watchpoint’s age more discernible on closer inspection.

 _Just like the rest of us,_ McCree mused, scratching his nose and taking another drag of his cigarillo, stalling. He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

‘Aren’t cowboys meant to walk  _away_ into the sunset?’ a voice asked, over to his left.

McCree froze, eyes still closed, fingertips pressed against either side of the bridge of his nose. He swallowed the lump in his throat before he raised his eyes, and turned to the cybernetic ninja as he stepped out of the shadows, the green vents down his armour casting an eerie halo around him.

McCree stared, at a loss for words. When he had received the call, he knew, logically, he wouldn’t be the only one responding, but he had never made the connection--

‘Genji,’ he said, the only word that made sense at the moment.

‘Hello, cowboy,’ Genji greeted him, a smile in his voice. ‘Never thought I’d see you somewhere like here, again.’

‘Never thought I’d see  _you_ again,’ McCree replied, pulling his cigarillo from his lips before it slipped. Genji huffed a laugh, looking away. McCree cleared his throat, rolling his cigarillo between his fingertips.

‘Well,’ Genji mused. ‘I suppose if we are talking about actually seeing me…’

McCree watched silently as Genji reached up and slipped his hands round the back of his head, pressing his fingertips into the edge of his mask and releasing it with a hiss of steam. Pulling it away, he unclicked the lower half under his nose and across his mouth, piling both pieces in one hand and yawning behind the other, letting his synthetic jaw adjust to the lack of added support. He smiled at McCree's open staring.

‘Surprised?’ Genji asked, cocking his head, the light catching the ridges and dips of the scars marring deep into his skin, shiny and pale at the edges with age. He glanced out the corner of his eye, away from McCree, his lips tilted higher on one side, more depreciating than cheerful. His body shifted, his shoulders curling forward as the silence between them stretched. ‘Well, things really do change: I never thought I’d see you speechless–’

He stopped, cut off by the thump of the duffel bag hitting the ground, and looked up at McCree as he tossed the half-smoked cigarillo away. He strode over to Genji with fire in his eyes, and Genji met him halfway, pulled towards McCree by a magnetic force. His fingers curled in the thick, soft wool of McCree’s serape, gripping it tight in his fists and he turned his face towards McCree, meeting his dark mahogany eyes in the shadow of his wide brimmed hat as McCree cupped his face in his hands, the leather of his gloves rough but the touch that held him tender against his skin. His fingers skirted Genji’s metal-plated jaw, his thumbs skirting under the soft, sleepy curve of his eyes: Genji gasped a short, sharp exhale of hot breath before McCree dipped down, his lips finding Genji’s in a searing, aching kiss.

The week-old bristles on McCree’s chin scratched and tickled Genji’s exposed skin, his metal plating hard and cold and unforgiving against McCree’s, but neither pulled away, desperately finding ways to fit together, soft lips and nipping teeth demanding more. The heady taste of smoke and tobacco settled on Genji’s tongue, hot and bitter under the sweetness of the kiss, burning his lips and throat as he breathed it in, letting it fill his lungs with a pleasant heat. The tip of his tongue darted out, catching the apex of the cupid’s bow upper lip under the scruffy bristles and McCree yielded, his fingers curling under Genji’s jaw and deepening the kiss, embracing the heat and the quiet, breathless gasps slipping past Genji’s lips until his lungs burned sweetly for air, and he pulled away. Turning his head, he kissed either corner of Genji’s lips, then his nose, his cheeks, his chin, following the lines of every scar tiger-striping Genji’s face.

‘Ten years,’ he breathed between the soft, quick pecks. He paused when his lips found Genji’s, brushing against them in a feather light caress. Genji’s lips parted hopefully, ghosting across McCree’s as he followed the breathless whispers forming on his lips. ‘Ten years I’ve waited to do this. Ten years I’ve  _wanted_ to do this.’

‘So do it, Jesse,’ Genji whispered back, fine tremors fluttering through him. McCree must have felt them, his hands shaking even as they gripped his serape, holding him in place. He pulled him forward, leaning up on his toes to kiss him again. He slid his hands up over McCree’s broad shoulders and around his neck, felt the rough, beaten leather of McCree’s gloves skim down his neck, slipping down around his body to embrace him. McCree’s hands settled between his shoulder blades, guiding him closer as their lips slanted together, taking their time in slow, gentle shifts, mapping the fine, delicate motions of the other, changing and adapting to fit together. They demanded and surrendered in turn, testing when to follow and when to lead the other until they broke away for air again, breathless and red faced.

‘I think I need a moment to breathe,’ Genji said with a laugh. ‘I doubt you can make up for ten years in an evening.’

He swallowed, licking his lips as he stared up at McCree, his bright, golden-hazel eyes piercing through him through thick, feathery eyelashes. His gaze turned uncertain, eyes flicking over to the bag discarded a few feet away, then to the gate surrounding the complex.

‘Unless you  _are_ planning to walk off into the sunset?’

‘Darlin’, I’ll tell you a secret,’ McCree whispered, his warm, bright eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. ‘Walking off into the sunset, ain’t about walking away from something. It’s about walking towards something, something better: your own, personal type of heaven, and god damn, don’t you just look it from where I’m standing?’

Genji blinked, his face radiating heat as he looked away, trying to stop the smile spreading across his face. He closed his eyes, breathing a sigh as McCree pressed a featherlight kiss against his temple, one arm sliding down and pressing his hand against the small of his back. Genji’s gaze returned to him, his smile soft and hesitant as he reached up, letting his fingers trace the sharp angle of McCree’s cheekbone, down his jaw and over his lips. His eyes fluttered shut, his breath ghosting over Genji’s fingertips, lips pressing against each one individually before turning to kiss his palm, curving his hand over Genji’s gently.

They remained in their silent embrace for several long, blissful minutes, before the breeze picked up and the shadows lengthened, and Genji quietly suggested they go inside and meet everyone else: there were many old friends waiting to be reunited, and new ones to be introduced. McCree nodded, stealing one last, tentative kiss from Genji before he retrieved his bag, following Genji through the front entrance to WatchPoint: Gibraltar, and never looked back.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me on [tumblr](http://aluxra.tumblr.com)


End file.
